


Almost Lost

by medi



Category: Hyakujuuou GoLion | Beast King GoLion
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vague angst, isamu is just worried over his boyfriend, no one dies so it's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medi/pseuds/medi
Summary: Even a leader isn't immortal. Oftentimes they're prone to danger.Akira, in particular, likes to put himself at the forefront of a battle. Isamu worries that every new wound might be the final blow, the last hit Akira can take.Was this the last hit?





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to this tag was supposed to be a date fic but I'm a weak man.

Isamu’s rapid footsteps sounded off the walls of the empty hallway. He was probably disturbing his friends in their bedrooms along the hall, but for the moment he didn’t care. Memories of battle were still fresh in his mind, one of those rare times where they fought outside of their lions on the ground, amid lasers coming at them from every direction. And then Akira’s voice rang out across the battlefield, the sound of him crying out in pain…  
The sliding doors didn’t open fast enough for him and he ended up half-prying them open with his hands.

“Akira!”

Light spilled out across the room from a singular source, a lamp sitting on the bedside table, and everywhere else it was dark. Akira raised his head from wrapping a fresh bandage around his wrist, the discarded one at his side stained a deep red with almost-dried blood. How long had it been? A few hours, maybe? And his wounds were still bleeding? Or Isamu had lost track of the time.

When Isamu looked at him, he saw things that never happened: himself holding Akira’s limp body in his arms, Akira giving him a tired smile as the light faded from his eyes, his own hands stained a ghastly bright red from Akira’s blood. He couldn’t remember what was real anymore.

“Isamu? Are you alright? How are you feeling after that fight?”  
Of course Akira worried about him first. Of course. Isamu shook his head wordlessly, which Akira took to mean that he was injured.

“What’s the matter? Were you hurt? Let me see it. I have some extra bandages so if it’s not too bad I can fix you up.”

 _It’s almost irritating how he never puts himself first._ Isamu thought. In silence, he made his way over to the bed Akira sat on, then dropped down onto it as if all the strength had suddenly left his body, his arms tight around Akira, holding him close. The warmth of a hand fell on the center of Isamu’s back; Akira’s eyes closed and a smile crossed his face.

“I’m grateful you came to help me so quickly.” he said.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so far away from you in the first place.” Isamu said.

“I can take care of myself, Moody. There’s no need for you to worry over me all the time.”

“You almost died!” Isamu’s voice cracked on the words that tumbled from his mouth, hot tears stinging his eyes, dampening his cheeks. His head grew heavy, and he dropped it to Akira’s shoulder, unable to bear the weight.

“I almost lost you.” he said, voice so quiet it was almost lost in the fabric of Akira’s jacket.

Akira’s hand rubbed slow circles in the center of Isamu’s back.  
“You didn’t lose me, Isamu,” he said. “I’m still here.”

“What about next time? God, if I’d just stayed nearby I know I would’ve seen it coming, I could have _warned_ you, I could have done something, but instead I wandered off and now you—!”

“Isamu.” Akira stopped him. “Hush.”

Isamu’s lip quivered, the tears continued to roll from his eyes, but he didn’t speak. Maybe hearing commands in a voice he’d thought might be lost to him forever made him more inclined to follow them. When Akira leaned back against the headboard of the bed, Isamu allowed himself to be pulled along.

“How bad is it?” he asked, breaking his silence. “Can I see?”

Akira shifted slightly so Isamu could look him over. His eyes widened when Isamu took his wrist and brought it to his lips, kissing the bandages that covered the gash there, then moving on to a bruise, a scrape. Isamu found every wound, from the tiniest scratch to the gaping cuts hidden beneath bandages, and he planted kisses like flowers to grow in all the little places where Akira needed healing.

He lifted his head to see Akira’s dark eyes filled with pure, adoring love, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, and Isamu leaned in and kissed his slightly open mouth even though his face was mostly unscathed. Akira’s cheeks burned warm beneath his hands.

“Do you know how much you mean to me?” Isamu said after he pulled away, his lips lingering close to Akira’s.

“I know.” Akira answered.

“I swear I thought my heart stopped when I heard you screaming. I thought you were dying.”

“I probably was, for a while.”

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I promise I won’t.”  
“You’re gonna end up breaking that promise the next time we leave on another mission. You’re always worrying me.”

Akira snorted. “As if you don’t do the same to me. And you’re much worse than I am.”

“Am I, o captain, my captain?” A wide grin spread across Isamu’s face.

Akira laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Stop it, that’s the most awful nickname you’ve given me.”

“It’s not really even a nickname. Anyway, you love it."

“Yes, you’re right. I love everything that has to do with you.”

Isamu settled against Akira again, unable to keep away for too long, unable to keep his arms from once again wrapping around Akira and refusing to let go.

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “I love you more than anything else in the universe. I’m always afraid it’ll be the last time I’m able to say that to you.”

Akira started to rub his back again. “And you’re afraid it’s going to be your fault, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly. But I’m sure I’ll find some way to blame myself when the time comes.”

“It won’t come,” Akira said. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, besides. In the end, all you can do is learn from your mistakes. You can never go back and fix them.”

“That’s why I’m afraid to make them in the first place.” Isamu replied.

“The more you fear them, the worse they’ll be when they happen. And they will happen; it’s just inevitable. A small mistake can become something much worse if you overcorrect, and most likely that’s what you’ll do.”

“Hm.” The small noise of acknowledgement was the only sign Isamu gave of hearing anything Akira said to him.

“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you, Isamu?” Akira asked him. “You have to forgive yourself when a mistake is yours, and when it isn’t you can’t put all the blame on yourself.”

“I get it,” Isamu grumbled. “But for once can I just hold you without getting a lecture?”

The gentle laughter that followed his indignant question settled over him like a cozy cotton blanket.

“Yes,” Akira said. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you comfortable?” Isamu asked  
“Mm. You’re warm. It’s nice.” came the answer.

Isamu expected they would fall asleep like this, but eventually Akira stirred beneath him and Isamu realized he wanted to get up. He moved himself aside with reluctance, letting Akira slip from his grasp until the last possible second, when Akira’s hand was almost out of his reach, and he grabbed hold of it, pulling it close to him and dragging Akira with it.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Isamu said.

“I’m just changing clothes,” Akira told him. “I won’t go far, love. I’m staying here in this room with you.”

With this reassurance, Isamu let go of his hand, although his touch lingered on the tips of Akira’s fingers for as long as possible before they became too far away. Akira stood beside the bed while he changed, and Isamu for the most part kept his gaze lowered to the bedsheets, offering wayward glances in Akira’s direction but turning away when the sight of the bandages made his chest hurt.

When Akira returned to him, Isamu coiled around him, tangling up their legs in each other, pressing Akira tight against himself. Akira was able to pull the blankets up around them even with the limited movement of his arm.

Isamu’s eyelids, heavy with sleep now, started to close.

“Aki.” he whispered softly.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Isamu.”

“You’ll still be here in the morning?”

“Yes. I promise. You can rest without fretting over me.”

“Wait.” Isamu forced his eyes open long enough to press a kiss to Akira’s lips. “There. You sleep, too. You need it most.”

“I will. Good night.”

“G’night.”

Isamu never loosened his hold on Akira until sleep’s embrace made his grip slacken.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked for more Akisamu? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
